She's Just Another Daisy Blooming in the Past
by StreamHarmonyTheShelrickRiver0
Summary: Shelagh's mother has died, and her sister, Connie, needs protecting from a scary monster. Their father. This fic is what I imagine happened to Shelagh before she joined the convent. WARNING this fic contains VIOLENCE and ABUSE. All rights go to Heidi Thomas and Jennifer Worth.
1. Chapter 1- Placing the Seeds

**So this is my second CTM fanfic, so be a little easy on me! I wanted to write about Shelagh's past,and what happened after her mother died. I'm not sure if I should continue or not, but I've given the first chapter a go. I imagined that Shelagh had a younger sister, and her name is Constance, (although Shelagh calls her Connie, and 'little calf'). So yeah, I hope you enjoy this.**

**There are some Scottish translations at the bottom of the page.**

**All rights for characters go to: the amazing Jennifer Worth, the wonderful Heidi Thomas, and portrayal of character goes to the fantastic Laura Main.**

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**WARNING! If ABUSE to kids or VIOLENCE is a TRIGGER for you do NOT READ this fiction. This fiction is RATED T for now, but some may consider it to be RATED M. You have been WARNED.**

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**CHAPTER ONE: **

**PLACING THE SEEDS**

"Come on, Connie, we're late!" I call, tugging wee Connie through the misty field, towards our house. How could I be so stupid thinking we would be quick?! Now Faither's going to hurt us! Poor, Connie, she doesn't understand. Why doesn't Faither get that? Why couldn't he just hurt me, and just leave Connie alone?

"What for, Shelagh?" She asks me in her wee voice. He grimy fingers slip from mine, as she reaches down to pick a daisy from the dew coated grass. She tugs off a pale milk petal, and watches as it dances, carried by the death cold wind, to the ground.

"Faither said we had to be home by 6:00 _sharp_! Dinnae dawdle, Connie!" I reach down and grab the hand empty of the flower, and try to speed up her wee legs. She pouts, and stomps as we walk.

"Mither will tell him!" Connie calls proudly, before asking in the tinniest of voices, "Where is Mither, Shelagh?"

"Oh, _Constance_." I sigh. How many times will have to explain this? She can't come back. It's nae like those times when Mither used to go on those long walks, and I'd tell Connie again and again, 'she'll be back soon'. Mither can't come back. Nae this time. Nae from her grave, "She's _nae_ coming back."

"But she said she would show me how to make a daisy chain!" Connie whines, yanking her hand from mine, and shoving the flower in my face.

"Come on, Connie. Let's get back. Ye may be allowed to have some hot milk for pudding." I tempt her, still worried about what Faither shall do when we arrive home. What if he's drunk again? I couldn't put up with another night of that. I ended up sending Connie to Mrs Singleir, our next door neighbour. The memory is nae a kind one, as I ended up as Faither's punching bag. Bruises are now dappled over my body, but it hurts less knowing that Connie isn't hurt.

"Can I _really_ have hot milk?" Connie asks, speeding up slightly at the thought of hot milk.

"Aye, if ye'r a good girl." I tell her, pulling her to a jogging pace.

We run slowly over the muddy path that leads to the door of our house, careful nae to slip on the water. Connie nearly falls into a murky brown puddle. Luckily I catch her, and carry her to the door.

I lift hand to the door, hovering my fisted palm in front of the splitting green paint. Slowly I tap the door, and close my eyes, knowing that Faither will be cross.

"A'm cold, Shelagh. I want my sweater." Connie snivels, shivering. Faither took our sweaters and warm skirts away just after Mither left. They reminded him to much of Mither, so they had to go.

I tug off my cardigan, and wrap it around Connie's shivering form. Giving her a wee smile, as I bend down to her height.

"There." I exhale, smoothing the rough material of my cardigan over her boney shoulders, "Now you're nice and warm, wee calf." I whisper, giving her fragile form a quick hug, before standing.

Lumbering foots steps make their way towards the door. I guide Connie gently, so she is standing slightly behind me.

The foot steps come slowly, and each thud seems to make my heart throb heavily.

_Thud_. _Thud_. _Thud_.

With each thud, my fear grows, and thickens into the nauseating emotion of being petrified. And my heart begins to ache with fear. Scared flutters run all over my body, as the foot steps stop in front of the door. Then the door is forced open, and Faither stands in front of us, a knife beared in his left hand.

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**Scottish translation for those who need it.**  
**A'll: **I'll  
**A'm: **I'm  
**A've: **I've  
**Aye: **yes  
**Bairn: **baby  
**Dinnae: **don't  
**Faither: **father/daddy  
**Grandmither: **grandmother  
**Migin' beast: **horrible beast  
**Mither: **mother  
**Na: **no  
**Nae: **not  
**Ne'er: **never  
**Stoap: **stop  
**Wee: **little  
**Ye: **You  
**Ye'r: **you're  
**Yer: **your  
**Ye'v: **you've

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**So that's what I've got so far. I hope you liked it..! I enjoyed writing it. I'm going to play it by ear, and see how many of you amazing CTM readers/writers read and review it. Depending on how many people like it is how I will write it.**

**If you have time please review and I hope you didn't waste your time reading this!**


	2. Chapter 2- Smirr Helps it tae Graw

**Here is chapter two! I've added some Scottish words in this chapter and chapter one. I hope people are actually reading this!**

**Without further ado, I give you chapter Two!**

**There are some Scottish translations at the bottom of the page.**

**All rights for characters go to: the amazing Jennifer Worth, the wonderful Heidi Thomas, and portrayal of character goes to the fantastic Laura Main.**

* * *

**WARNING! If ABUSE to kids or VIOLENCE or IMPLIED THEMES is a TRIGGER for you do NOT READ this fiction. This fiction is RATED T for now, but some may consider it to be RATED M. You have been WARNED.**

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**CHAPTER TWO:**

**SMIRR HELPS IT TAE GRAW **

**{Rain Helps It To Grow}**

"Shelagh, Constance. Ye'r late." Faither says coldly, a slightly chewed Henley sitting oddly out of his mouth. I could use a Henley right now. Anything that could shake off these nerves. He's my own father! I shouldn't be terrified of him, like I am. Sometimes, he randomly goes back to the man he used to be before Mither died. Only two weeks ago, he took me and Connie to get Spotted Dick Pudding from Isla's tea room, in town. As soon as we got home, he went back to the terrifying man that stands before me now.

"Oh, A'm sorry, Faither!" I apologise, body shaking, and nae from the sharp wind.

"_Sorry_? Ye'r sorry?" Faither chuckles, "Well, that just ain't good enough!" A hint of jest is in his booming voice. I cower slightly, trying to pull Connie further behind me, to protect her.

"Faither? When's Mither coming back? Shelagh won't tell me." The wee voice behind me asks. Oh na, Constance! Now ye'v done it. Faither glares at Connie, a sneer slowly curving up his brandy stained lips. His eyes seem to turn black, as he squats at Connie's level. Fire blazes, behind his blackened coal eyes.

"When's she coming back?" Faither's voice is venomous. He's like a snake, catching its prey. Connie nods to Faither's repetition, her grubby fingers fidgeting, almost nervously but nae quite.

"Well, wee Constance." Faither whispers, "I'm afraid to tell ye, that Mither ran away, because she ain't ne'er want to see yer _ugly_ face again!" Faither roared, standing and looming over us. He gnarls and grins a toothy grin, with repulsive yellow teeth.

"Ye mingin' _beast_!" I scream, turning to Connie, "Go to Mrs Singleir, tell her I'll give her more milk, and that she is to take care of ye until I come pick ye up. Dinnae come back here under any circumstances! Now run!" I tell Connie. I spin her, with my hands on her shoulders, and give her a wee shove in the direction of Mrs Singleir's house. "_Run_! Constance, please ye _have_ to run!"

Faither has stepped forward, and is standing close behind me. I can feel his warm breath licking my neck. "_Shelagh_." He exhales my name, with a cloud of hot air burning my neck. I feel his hand creep onto my arm. My eyes water as pain rips through my body. He twists my arm so painfully, I'm sure he must have pulled my shoulder right out of its socket. All I can see is black, as the pain sears through my arm, slowly crawling to other parts of my body.

"Ye will _ne'er ever_ disobey me again." I nod shakily, " Where were ye last night?"

"C-connie, Constance had a n-nightmare. I couldn't leave her..she'd get-t suspicious.." I stutter, fear rattling through me, and consuming the previous pain that was there.

"Suspicious?" Faither hisses, his face next to mine.

"I dinnae want her to find out. She might t-tell someone." I mumble, trying weakly to pull from Faither's firm grasp. He left hand holds my bony arm, his large hands completely encompassing my upper right arm, holding it firmly behind me. His other hand is in my hair, raking through it with grubby fingers.

"She's ain't smart enough to do that!" Faither laughs, pulling me flush against him. He's so close I can smell him. The smell of Henley's mixed with some odd cologne, and a foul smell that I couldn't put a name to. Probably the smell of him not having bathed for several days. Urine, sweatiness and a generally unsanitary type of smell.

I feel sick, from the repellent man that I call my faither. I wish I'd followed Connie, as she escaped to 'safety'. But that would have been futile, as Faither only would have chased after us. In the back of my mind, I am happy that Connie is shielded slightly from this monster behind me. But in the very pit of my stomach, something that I can't understand is stirring. A feeling that tells me I shouldn't be here. That I shouldn't have to deal with this.

"_Please_, let me go." I plead, turning to face him, and instantly regretting it. He forces his mouth upon mine. So many times has this happened, without my consent, that A'm almost used to it. The first time it happened, I was nearly sick. I felt so nauseated by the horrible taste of brandy, Henley's and beer that had swirled around my mouth. That was only four months ago, two weeks after Mither's death.

"Come wi's, Isobel." Faither murmurs into my mouth, tugging me forcibly towards the house. Isobel. My Mither. I can hardly remember her apart from her shining blue eyes. I dream about those eyes. Deep understanding pools of shimmering royal blue, glimmering in the evening light, glints of beauty crossed with love gleaming within them.

"A'm Shelagh." I say, pulling my mouth away from his for only seconds, before he reunites them again. His lips move over mine, and I dinnae move. My lips are tight, holding a wall so he can't force his tongue into my mouth. Once he does that, he'll get lost, and there won't be any chance of escape.

"Don't be silly, Isobel, that's our daughters name." Faither mutters between vigorous kisses. By now, he has pulled me into the house. He slams the door, and uses his weight to manoeuvre me against the door. Then he shoves me, so that A'm trapped between him and the door. The knob digs into my lower rib, painfully, as Faither presses himself closer. His hands begin to wander over my body, squeezing and pinching as he goes.

"Staop! A'm yer _daughter_!" I gasp, pushing at his chest, attempting to stoap his current movements. He laughs and continues, ignoring my comment. "Faither, stoap! Please, A'm begging ye!" He pauses, and looks up at me. Confusion writes itself over his face, and he stares into my eyes.

"But...yer eyes, they're blue, and almost perfect azure. Only my Isobel has eyes like yers!" He whispers, softly tracing his finger over the skin under my eye. "And yer skin. Pale and soft, like a light sifted flour." His fingers slip over my cheeks, "Yer lips, a faint roseate." And his right thumb trails over my bottom lip.

"What about my hair, it's nae like Mither's. Mither had brown hair, like Connie. Mines golden brown, like grandmither's was." I murmur, looking him in the eye. His hazel eyes seem to be looking into my soul, as if searching for the evidence that A'm Mither, and not his daughter. His body is still currently pressed against mine.

"She-Shelagh?" Faither pulls back, a look of horror striking his features.

"Aye, Faither." I break softly, sucking in a breath of air and holding it, hoping, praying to The Lord that Faither will stoap.

Suddenly he leaps away from me, and jumps to the corner of the other side of the room. He's like a scared kitten, cowering over there.

"Oh, my wee Shelagh. What have I done? Ye deserve so much better than me as a Faither. Ye-ye must run. Next week, on my full day, _run_! Take the money from the pot in the kitchen and leave. Don't worry about me. Take Constance with ye. It's this other me, he's taking over. A'm going _insane_, and ye need to escape. Go to London. A'll forget A've said this, so na need to worry about that. Now, go and get Connie from Mrs Singleir. A'll be out for the rest of the evening." Faither stands, and staggers to the door, taking a pint of brandy with him. I stand, frozen at the door, as he stumbles towards me. "Ye'll need to move." I try to move my legs, but it's like they've become part of the floor. Faither puts the brandy done, and lifts me gently into his arms, treating me completely different than when he was violently kissing me before.

He helps me into the wooden seat in the kitchen, and then gives me a quick kiss on the forehead, before rushing out the door.

I sit there, staring at the table. Minutes pass before I can even manage to stand. I grab Faither's coat from the hook, and slip it over my thin frame. It's big enough to fit me and several friends, but it's warm and makes me feel safe. I trip out the door, into the cool night air, and trudge along the path towards Mrs Singleir's house, to collect Connie.

I hope she won't ask questions, because I won't be able to answer them. The tin of milk is heavy in my grip beneath the oversized sleeves of the coat. I paste a smile on my face as I reach Mrs Singleir house. I inhale deeply and knock on the wooden door, then wait for someone to open it.

"Oh, 'allo, Shelagh, me wee bairn! Connie's been a darlin', she's just through here." She bustles me into the kitchen happily chatting away. A'm happy, because this means I only have to mumble 'ayes' and nod when it is appropriate.

For now, I have na questions to answer. And I am 'safe'.

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**Scottish translation for those who need it.**

**A'll: **I'll  
**A'm: **I'm  
**A've: **I've  
**Aye: **yes  
**Bairn: **baby  
**Dinnae: **don't  
**Darlin': **darling  
**Faither: **father/daddy  
**Grandmither: **grandmother  
**Migin' beast: **horrible beast  
**Mither: **mother  
**Na: **no  
**Nae: **not  
**Ne'er: **never  
**Stoap: **stop  
**Wee: **little  
**Wi': **with me  
**Ye: **You  
**Ye'r: **you're  
**Yer: **your  
**Ye'v: **you've

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**TBC...**

**I hope you all enjoyed it! **

**Please don't be scared to review if you have the time, feedback will help me write, and spur me on! Hint, hint. Thanks for reading!**

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**STORY MESSAGE:**

**In my mind, Shelagh's father has Schizophrenia, which explains the double personality, I assume Shelagh's mother kept him in check, but now she's gone it's uncontrollable. **


End file.
